The Catalyzing of Malfoy
by thatsadumbcat
Summary: After six years of wandering through the Hogwarts grounds at night without incident, Scorpius Malfoy stumbles upon a scene that finally pushes him to act on his suppressed feelings. Will he finally get everything he's always wanted, or will one night's actions destroy the perfect image he has worked so hard to maintain, leaving him with less than ever before? Not CC-compliant.
1. Midnight Musings

Chapter 1: Midnight Musings

That time between the first quiet of midnight and the final, reluctant stretch of darkness into dawn has always been my favorite time to wander the grounds of Hogwarts. Some may chalk it up to insomnia, and others may come up with other, more nefarious reasons for my obsession with the night time, but whatever the reason, I have been leaving the castle nightly for the past six years. There's just something about the way the moonlight hits the glass of the Black Lake's surface, and the rustling sounds of unknown creatures from the Forbidden Forest that always manages to calm my nerves after a long day of pretending.

For seventeen hours every day, between breakfast at 7, and my first steps onto the grounds at midnight, I pretend to be something I'm not, _someone_ I'm not. I strut about the castle, sneering at those I've been taught to look down upon and buddying up to those who may have something to offer me. On the outside, I am the epitome of a Malfoy man: a clone of my father, a potions prodigy, a Slytherin. I interact only with those of whom my family would approve, and stay far away from those who would tarnish our family name.

Or at least, I should. At night is the only time I allow myself the freedom to contemplate my own thoughts. During the day, I try my hardest to play the part of the uninterested pureblood, but by night, I am no longer Scorpius Malfoy, pride of Slytherin. At night, I'm just Scorpius, one of a thousand kids at this school, just trying to get through my seven years before I can finally begin my life. I don't have to monitor my thoughts, and I am free to think about the future, and the people who I would like to be a part of it, rather than those who have to be. I can think about the students who, under better circumstances, I could see myself approaching with the offer of friendship, of the professors to whom I could go for career advice, had I not been expected since birth to take over for my father at the family business. I can think about girls who I wouldn't likely be forced to marry, should my grandfather ever manage to overpower my father's insistence that while we may be purebloods, we're not medieval. More specifically, I can think about _her._

I first noticed her in third year, during a Care of Magical Creatures class. Sure, I had seen her before then, in classes, in the halls, or at meals. This time was different, though. She had just turned to whisper something to her cousin, and the sunlight hit her red hair at just the right angle to blind me, momentarily. It was at that moment that I came to the conclusion that would ultimately be my downfall: Rose Weasley was pretty. Very pretty. Like, life-ruiningly pretty.

This fact may not have rattled me so hard, had it not been for my rather unfortunate upbringing. All my life, I had been taught by my grandparents that the only attractive people in our society were the ones like us. Snobby, rich purebloods with a penchant for the darker side of magic. People whose only ambitions in life were to marry up and make fistfulls of galleons. Power was attractive, as were gold, mansions, and respectful pureblood surnames. Anything other than that was not worthy of a Malfoy's attention.

Yet, here she was. A half-blood with none of the snootiness, wealth, or ambition that my family would expect of my potential friends. Yes, her family had power, and more than a fair bit of gold, but not the kind that would impress my grandfather. I had grown up hearing tales about the Weasleys, and how traitorous they were to their bloodline, allowing all sorts of riffraff to marry into their rather large brood. Of the numerous Weasleys currently roaming Hogwarts' halls, less than a handful could claim any sort of blood purity, and least of all the witch who had captured my prepubescent attention.

After that fateful class, I began to watch her. Not all the time, of course, as it was never my intention to be creepy, but when we happened to be in the same room, my eyes always seemed to wander in her direction. It was through these brief glimpses into her life that I learned little tidbits about her personality.

I learned that her favorite subject was Ancient Runes, and she would always arrive to that class earlier than the rest of us, no matter how quickly I tried to climb the four flights of stairs from the Great Hall to the classroom. I once sprinted up the last staircase, taking the steps two at a time, only to round the final corner and see her patiently waiting by the door, reading through that week's chapter in the textbook. She looked up at me curiously as I went to lean against the wall on the other side of the doorway, struggling to catch my breath. I thought she might actually say something to me then, if only to ask why I was in such a rush to be fifteen minutes early for class, but alas, no. She caught me staring and quickly averted her gaze back to her textbook, a light flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. It was mesmerizing. It was also paralyzing, and it took me longer than I care to admit to finally tear my eyes away from her face and sit down against the wall of the corridor, pulling out my own textbook. I have to say, I've had better moments.

I learned that Rose adored her family. Of course, most kids our age probably held a certain amount of affection for their families, but understandably, seeing Rose interact with her cousins was a whole new experience for me. I loved my parents, and I suppose if it came down to it, I loved my grandparents, as well. However, I had never felt anything like the emotions I would see on Rose's face as she laughed with the Potters, or comforted the tall, veela-looking girl after a particularly bad break-up, or yelled at her brother for getting yet _another_ detention. The most emotional expression my family would ever encourage was a scowl, and even that would be pushing it. The Weasleys, it would seem, tended to wear their hearts on their sleeves, for which I was eternally grateful.

I learned that while I found Rose to be perhaps the most stunning, gorgeous, enticing witch at Hogwarts, very few of my classmates agreed. I would sneer along with the idiots in my dorm as they remarked on how tall and gangly she was, or how her nose was just a bit too large, or her teeth a bit too long. Her hair was too bushy, or her freckles were too prominent. To me, these were all just pieces of the puzzle that made up my Rose, but the boys I knew seemed to view them as flaws, which confused me to no end (not that I would ever admit that, of course). I would just nod along silently as those imbeciles ripped her to shreds, then, on my midnight walks, I would imagine all the ways I would like to hurt them. Not physically, of course; I do have my image to think about. I could just let slip a secret or two here and there, make their lives a little more difficult. Maybe I could start a rumor that Belby had a hidden pygmy puff farm in an abandoned classroom, or that Zabini was secretly in love with Priscilla Goyle. No one would ever expect the stoic, careless Scorpius Malfoy to have made up all of these rumors, and they would have spread throughout the whole of Slytherin house by dinner, and throughout the school by lunch the next day.

In the end, I never did take my revenge. Although I was relatively certain I would never be caught, there was still a slight chance that someone would become suspicious, and I wasn't willing to take that risk. Once someone figured out that it had been me who started something, they would want to know why, and I don't think having a crush on a prominent Weasley would fit into the careful facade I had cultivated for myself over the course of my Hogwarts career. For now, I would just pretend to be one of the drooling monsters who made up my dorm mates, and take these midnight strolls as a chance to be myself. No one needed to know my real thoughts, as it's not like I would ever act on them, no matter how tempting.

And it had become _very_ tempting, of late. Perhaps worse than the morons who couldn't see the beauty that was Rose Weasley, were the ones who could. To my great disappointment, there was one slightly less moronic boy in my dorm who refused to join in on the Weasley-bashing that normally took place: Alex Nott. To my even greater disappointment, Nott had seen fit to ask Rose to Hogsmeade a couple months back, and to my absolute horror, she had agreed.

It's not as if Rose had _never_ dated anyone, before. There was Longbottom back in fourth year, and one of the Creevey boys had asked her to be his date to one of Slughorn's parties at the end of last year, but none of those idiots had ever lived with me. Nott had been my roommate for the past six years, and as such, I was privy to his thoughts on all manner of topics, including girls. While he had never been one to join in on the teasing, Nott found other ways to make his preferences known, and suffice to say, I wanted him nowhere near Rose Weasley. He was abusive, and would brag about it. He wanted a woman to bend to his every whim, which luckily for me, did not yet appear to include sex. I don't think I would have been able to keep quiet, had I been forced to listen to _that._

What I _did_ know about the current state of their relationship was that Rose was still reluctant to obey some of his more ridiculous demands. He wanted her to sit with him at the Slytherin table during meals, but she preferred to stay with her family, which he saw as an insult. She also refused to show any public displays of affection, for which I was grateful, but which seemed to anger Nott. Honestly, I'm not sure why he stayed with her if she was constantly making him angry, but I'm sure he had his reasons. I'm just not sure I wanted to know what those reasons were.

Which brings us to tonight. I had been wandering the grounds, as per usual, when the silence I'd come to expect from my nightly excursions was broken by a muffled scream. Now, I'm no Gryffindor, but I'm also not completely heartless. When someone is so obviously suffering, I'm compelled to help, and so I quickly drew my wand and made my way toward where I had heard the scream as quietly as I could. The sound appeared to have originated in the courtyard, so I ran over and hid behind one of the large stone columns lining the edge of the space. From my vantage point, I managed to catch the two figures as they emerged from the shadows directly across the courtyard from my position. My heart stopped when I recognized the smaller of the two as Rose, and my interest increased exponentially. Impossibly, it increased further upon recognizing the other figure as Alex Nott.

They appeared to be fighting, although the scream I had heard earlier had died down to a whispered shout. It was something about Nott and another girl, although the details of the conversation were lost on me. If I had to guess, I would have bet money that Rose had caught Nott in a compromising position with someone else, although the look currently plastered all over his face was far from contrite. Merlin, he could at least pretend to feel guilty about the situation!

Rose was laying into Nott, which was a reaction I had never expected of her, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Rose Weasley was loyal, and she cared deeply for her friends. Why wouldn't she feel the same about her boyfriend? A betrayal of that kind of trust would send anyone over the edge. I watched as her face turned impossibly redder, and she appeared to grow another foot and a half as she berated Nott. It wasn't until she finally reached for her wand that I thought about interrupting, but that wasn't the catalyst for my actions. Instead, it was the loud smack I heard as Rose was turning to retrieve her wand from the pocket of her robes.

I saw red. I don't remember moving from my place behind the column, but I do remember grabbing the hand Nott still had outstretched after hitting his girlfriend across the face. I remember twisting his arm behind his back and shoving his face into a stone pillar as I searched for the wand I had dropped in the scuffle. I only vaguely remember hearing myself screaming at him before being blinded by the red light of a stunning spell. Then, I remember nothing.


	2. Rose

Chapter 2: Rose

Why is it that as soon as things appear to be going well for me, they all fall apart? I mean, I'd only been dating Alex for a total of two months, so how was it that he was bored of me, already? Just because I wasn't about to jump into bed with him, that didn't mean I was boring! I was getting there! I just needed time!

Of course, Gloria Pensworth doesn't appear to need any time, judging from the position I just caught her in with _my_ boyfriend. I was running a bit late with my prefect rounds when I heard muffled noises coming from a broom closet in a corridor off the courtyard. Technically, it wasn't my job to be patrolling down there, but as a prefect, it's kind of my duty to check on suspicious activity. I wasn't expecting to yank the door of the closet open and find my boyfriend pushing a fifth year Hufflepuff against the wall, with his tongue down her throat.

"A-Alex?" I managed to stammer out before they finally took notice of my presence. While Gloria appeared mortified, Alex just looked at me with indifference, shrugging at my expectant facial expression. How dare he?! "Gloria, I think you should head back to your common room," I whispered, before grabbing Alex by the hand and practically dragging him down the hall and through the double doors that led outside. Behind us, I heard Gloria scurrying away, but at the moment, I wasn't mad at her. It was the git I was currently forcing into the cold air of the courtyard with whom I was absolutely livid.

"What was that about?!" I screamed as I whirled around to face him, once we were safely outside. Realizing that someone may still be able to hear me, I lowered my voice a bit. "I said we could be quiet about our relationship, not that we weren't exclusive! Does she even know we're dating, or did you not care enough to mention it?"

"Calm down, Rose. You knew before I ever asked you out that I get bored easily. If Glenda wants to offer me something you won't, who am I to refuse?" The sneer that currently graced his features only made me angrier. He couldn't even be bothered to remember the name of the girl he had been more than willing to cheat on me with, and now he's going to try and blame this whole mess on _me?!_

"No, absolutely not! You do _not_ get to tell me this is my fault!" I stopped to wipe the tears of frustration from my face. _I will not start bloody crying over this git. He's not worth it, and I only started dating him to get Dominique off my case, anyway. I'm not hurt. I'm not._

It seemed my body was not going to pay my thoughts any heed, and the tears continued to flow. I thought about drawing my wand, but I'm more mature than that. I can have a rational discussion with my boyfriend without hexing him, I swear.

"How long?" I finally asked. I didn't know if I wanted to know the answer, but I needed to hear it, anyway. "How long have you been cheating on me?"

"How long have we been dating, again?"

That was it, the spark I was waiting for to light the figurative inferno inside me. At that point, I let him have it.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?! If you didn't want to be with me, all you had to do was say so! Do you really think I like you _that much,_ that I would overlook something like this, or were you just hoping I wouldn't find out? I can't _believe_ I ever thought you were even halfway decent, and I'm _so glad_ we never went farther than snogging, or I would be hexing you so badly you'd be in the hospital wing until _graduation!_ What do you even have to say for yourself?"

He looked me in the eye, silently sneering at me, as if he had no remorse for his actions at all. When he had not answered me for more than a minute, I finally turned to pull my wand from my pocket, determined to get a response from him, one way or another. To hell with Mature Rose, I was going to get downright petty. I didn't even get the chance to finish that thought, however, before I felt the sting of his slap across my face. Then, all hell broke loose.

I had barely registered that I had been hit before a body flung itself from the other side of the courtyard and slammed Alex's face into one of the stone pillars we were standing by. Through my shock, I recognized the body as Scorpius Malfoy, of all people. Then, my brain finally started working again as I saw him frantically searching for his wand, screaming profanities at my boyfriend the whole time. I finished pulling my wand from my robes and sent a silent _stupefy_ at Malfoy, preventing him from causing _too_ much damage. Before Alex had the chance to react, I had stunned him, as well.

My night was going just swimmingly, in case you were wondering.

I left Malfoy passed out in the courtyard while I levitated Alex to the hospital wing. I didn't bother waking Madame Beckett, as I couldn't care less how quickly the apparently broken nose of my _ex-_ boyfriend was healed. I simply left him on a bed and made my way back down to the courtyard to clean up my other mess.

Malfoy was right where I'd left him, unconscious. Before waking him and berating him for getting involved, I took a moment to really look at him. The dark circles that were ever present under his eyes were more prominent than usual, and he looked like he was having his first sleep in years. His hair was mussed, as if he'd been running his hands through it constantly, which I was positive he had. For someone who acted so composed all the time, it was completely obvious to me that Scorpius Malfoy was a nervous wreck.

Despite what my idiot of an ex thought of me, I was not stupid; I've noticed the way Malfoy has been looking at me. I first noticed it in fourth year, shortly after I began dating Frankie Longbottom. Malfoy had glared at him across the Great Hall every day for the entire month and a half we had dated. After that, I would catch him looking at me in every class we shared, whenever we passed each other in the halls, and just about any other situation that put us in the same general space as one another. The staring had never really bothered me before; as the daughter of two war heroes, I was no stranger to admirers. It was more the intensity of the stares that got to me. I got the feeling that Malfoy wasn't staring at me because of my name, but because he was searching for something, and I'm not sure he ever would have found what he was looking for.

His actions tonight, however, had gone too far. Stare at me in class all you want, but once you start stalking me, it's over. How long had he been following me, and what was he hoping to see? Clearly not my argument with Alex, judging by the state of my ex-boyfriend's face when I'd left him. I did feel a small amount of gratitude for that, I'll admit, but it was drowned out almost completely by my frustration with the blond in front of me. I didn't particularly want my own personal stalker, and besides, I can take care of myself. I would have handled Alex just fine, had Scorpius never shown up.

I might have spent another twenty minutes stewing on this, but as it was, Malfoy was starting to stir. I took the time before he woke up fully to plan what I was going to say to him. Do I thank him for defending me, regardless of how stupid and unnecessary it was? Do I reprimand him for stalking me? Do I play dumb and ask what he was doing out here, on the off chance he _wasn't_ following me, and I'm just beyond conceited? I was still undecided when he finally blinked his eyes open and sat up, glancing around in surprise and confusion.

"Um...what happened?" he asked when he finally noticed my presence, eyes widening a bit before he spoke.

"I stupefied you after you broke my boyfriend's nose on a pillar. What the hell, Malfoy?" I guess I was playing bad cop, then. He at least had the grace to look guilty.

"Sorry, I just...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have interfered." He looked around, squinting in confusion. "Where's Nott?"

"I took him to the hospital wing. He's probably waking up about now, but that's irrelevant. What were you doing following me?"

"What?" His expression became even more confused, and I knew I'd said the wrong thing. _Crap. You just_ had _to let Malfoy's attention get to your already plus-sized head, didn't you, Rose?_ It took a moment for me to respond, and when I did, I somehow managed to shove my foot even farther down my own throat than it already was.

"Weren't you? Following me, I mean. I just figured, since you've been staring at me all the time, you were probably out here following me, and I'm just now realizing how terriblethatsoundsandI'msorry." My last few words were rushed and mumbled, as I had caught sight of Malfoy's quickly reddening face. What was wrong with me?!

I could see the panic in his eyes as he hurried to think of some way to respond, and I braced myself for whatever he was going to say. The way I saw it, he was either going to be exceptionally angry or exceptionally embarrassed, but either way, I was looking anywhere but at him, wishing for some way to melt into the floor instead of dealing with his reaction.

Finally, "What makes you think I've been staring at you? Don't flatter yourself, Weasley; I have better things to do than follow around some half-blood, in hopes of something interesting happening. You're reaching."

Well, that was unexpected. When I finally looked over at him, his face was back to his usual mask of indifference, all the redness from before having disappeared. Damn, for a minute there, I thought we might have been close to being open with each other. My mistake.

"Cut the crap, Malfoy. I know you've been staring at me. I might have even believed you weren't actively stalking me, but then, why are you here? Alex and I weren't exactly trying to draw a crowd, it being the _middle of the bloody night,_ and all! That's another thing, why would you feel the need to attack him? I'm fully capable of handling myself around that wanker, and even if I wasn't, I certainly don't need _you_ to help me!"

"Oh, right, because stopping my dorm mate from attacking his girlfriend in _the middle of the bloody night,_ with no one around was _such_ a terrible thing to do. I've no doubt you could handle yourself, _Rose_ , but I'm not going to sit there and watch it happen! Besides, I was not _stalking you._ If you _must_ know, I was taking a walk when I heard you "handling yourself" from the lake. If you don't want anyone listening in on your conversations, cast a damn silencing charm!"

Well. Not sure what to say, I simply glared at him until the fight left his eyes. When he spoke again, all of his pompous pretense appeared to have left him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I mean, no, I wasn't following you or anything, but I _did_ overreact a bit. I just...don't like him. You have every right to be mad at me, but I won't apologize for that. He's a git, and you could do so much better." His eyes widened at that, and he hurriedly added, "What I meant to say is that I live with him, and let's just say that the Slytherin sixth year boys' dorm isn't the _best_ place to find a boyfriend. They're kind of disgusting."

It did not escape my notice that he didn't seem to want to include himself in his assessment of his dorm mates, but I chose to ignore it. Instead, I sighed and reached out my hand to help him up from his place still on the ground, where I'd stupefied him.

"Come on, Malfoy. Let's go somewhere."


End file.
